The Ultimate Betrayal: How My Sister-in-Law Faked a Pregnancy to Manipulate Me—And How I Got Revenge
By Lisa Thompson
It was just another ordinary Tuesday night in my house—until the doorbell rang.
My kids, Michelle (8) and Alan (6), were at the kitchen table. Michelle was scribbling away at her homework, while Alan was more interested in building a mashed potato fortress than eating it. My husband, Dave, was flipping through the newspaper, still in his work clothes.
Then—ding dong!
I opened the door, and there she was.
Sarah. My sister-in-law.
Mascara streaked down her cheeks like black tears. Her hands clutched a battered suitcase like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
“Lisa… oh my God, thank goodness you’re home!” she sobbed, her voice trembling. “I—I have nowhere else to go!”
My heart dropped. Sarah had always been… dramatic. But this? This seemed real.
“What happened?” I asked, stepping aside.
She stumbled in, her whole body shaking. “It’s Mark. I—I told him I was pregnant, and he—he lost it. He said he’d rather divorce me than have a baby!” Her hand flew to her stomach. “I’m two months along, Lisa. And he just—he threw me out!”
Dave looked up, his eyebrows shooting up. “Wait… Sarah’s pregnant?”
“And homeless,” she whispered, fresh tears spilling. “Please… I just need a place to stay. Just until I figure things out.”
I exchanged a glance with Dave. Our house was small. Our budget? Tighter than Alan’s grip on his favorite toy truck. But how could I say no to a pregnant woman?
“Of course you can stay,” I said, ignoring the warning look in Dave’s eyes.
Sarah burst into tears again. “Thank you. I swear I won’t be a burden. Just… don’t tell Mark I’m here, okay? I can’t deal with more drama right now.”
Little did I know—the real drama was just beginning.
Week 1: The “Helpless” Pregnant Woman
At first, Sarah played the role perfectly.
She spent her days curled up on our couch, clutching her stomach and moaning about “morning sickness.”
*”Ugh… the baby *hates* everything today,”* she groaned, dramatically pushing away the tea I’d made her.
I rearranged the whole living room to make her comfortable. I even gave up the TV remote—sacrifices, right?
But then… things got weird.
Exhibit A: Michelle’s missing lunch.
“Mom, where’s my sandwich?” Michelle asked, digging through the fridge.
I knew I’d packed it the night before. Turkey. Chips. The works.
“Sarah… did you see Michelle’s lunch?” I called out.
From the couch, Sarah barely glanced up from her phone. *”Oh, yeah. I ate it. The baby *needed* protein.”*
Michelle’s face fell. *”But… that was *mine.”
“I’ll make you another one,” I said quickly, but inside? I was fuming.
Dave pulled me aside later. *”Lisa, this isn’t working. She hasn’t even *looked* for a job.”*
*”She’s *pregnant* and going through a divorce!”* I hissed back.
But oh… if only that were true.
Week 2: The Food Bandit Strikes Again
Sarah didn’t just eat in our house.
She devoured it.
One night, Alan poked his head into the kitchen, confused. “Mom… the spaghetti’s gone.”
“What?”
I’d made a huge pot—enough for leftovers.
But the pot? Empty.
I stormed into the living room. Sarah was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
*”Sarah. Did you eat *all* the spaghetti?”*
She sighed like I was the unreasonable one. *”Lisa, I’m eating for *two.* The cravings are insane.“*
*”But that was dinner for the *whole family!”
She rolled her eyes. *”Are you seriously policing what a *pregnant* woman eats? Wow. Just… wow.”*
Dave stepped in, his voice tight. *”Sarah, Lisa does all the cooking. The least you could do is *ask* before eating everything.”*
Sarah’s face twisted in fake outrage. *”Oh, so now you’re *both* ganging up on me? Perfect. This is exactly what I need right now!”*
The Breaking Point
The final straw?
I woke up one morning to find the entire pantry—cleaned out.
Every snack. Every ingredient. Gone.
That’s when I snapped.
I marched into the living room. “Sarah. We need to talk.”
She barely glanced up. “Ugh. What now?”
*”You ate *everything* in this house. My kids have nothing left for lunches!”*
She scoffed. *”Maybe if you *bought* more groceries, this wouldn’t be a problem!”*
Oh. No. She. Didn’t.
That night, I made a plan.
A brilliant plan.
Operation: Expose the Fake Pregnancy
First, I bought a mini fridge—with a lock.
I installed it in the kids’ room and stocked it with their food.
Sarah saw it the next morning.
*”What the *hell* is that?”* she snarled.
“Just making sure my kids have food,” I said sweetly.
*”You *locked* a fridge? For children?”*
*”Yep. *My* children.”*
She stormed off, slamming doors like a toddler.
Phase Two?
I changed the Wi-Fi password.
Sarah’s Netflix binge came to a screeching halt.
“The internet’s not working!” she whined.
*”Oh, we had to update the password for *security reasons,” I said innocently.
“Well, what’s the new one?”
“I’ll get it to you later.”
Spoiler: I never did.
The Truth Comes Out
Then—fate intervened.
At the grocery store, I ran into Jennifer, Sarah’s old roommate.
“Lisa! How’s it going with Sarah?”
“Oh, you know… pregnant and dramatic,” I sighed.
Jennifer’s eyes widened. *”Wait… she told you she’s *pregnant?”
“Yeah? She’s two months along.”
Jennifer laughed. *”Lisa… she’s *not* pregnant. She pulled this exact scam on me last year!”*
My blood ran cold. “What?”
*”She *fakes* pregnancies to freeload off people! Then she ‘miscarries’ months later to avoid getting caught. She’s done this to so many people!”*
Everything clicked.
The convenient morning sickness. The refusal to see a doctor. The endless food demands.
It was all a lie.
The Revenge
Oh, Sarah thought she was clever.
But I was about to be legendary.
I called my mom friends. “I need a favor.”
The next day, they arrived like a pregnancy SWAT team.
Maria brought baby clothes. Susan hauled in a breast pump. Betty wheeled in a stroller loaded with diapers.
Sarah walked out of the bathroom—and froze.
“What… is all this?”
“Baby gifts!” I beamed. *”Since you’re *expecting, we thought you’d need supplies!”
Her face went pale. “I—I don’t need this yet!”
“Nonsense!” I chirped. “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”
“I… haven’t scheduled one.”
*”Oh, we’ll fix that! I’ll *drive* you!”*
I flooded the TV with pregnancy shows. I made “prenatal” smoothies. I talked nonstop about baby names, nurseries, and birthing plans.
Then—the final blow.
*”Sarah! Great news! I planned a *baby shower* for you next weekend! I invited all your friends—even Mark’s sister!”*
Her face contorted in panic.
*”You did *WHAT?”
*”A *shower*! Everyone’s *so excited* to celebrate your miracle baby!”*
That night—she cracked.
“I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!” she screamed, storming into the kitchen. *”YOU’RE *SUFFOCATING* ME!”*
I turned, calm as ever. *”I’m just helping you prepare for *motherhood.”
“STOP IT! JUST—UGH!*” She ripped at her hair. *”FINE! I’M NOT PREGNANT, OKAY? IT WAS A LIE!”*
I smiled. “I know.”
Her jaw dropped. *”You… *what?”
“I’ve known for days. I just wanted to see how far you’d take it.”
Sarah’s face turned purple with rage. *”You *manipulative—”
“Me*? *You* lied about a baby to mooch off us! You stole food from children!”*
“I NEVER ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!”
*”You *stood on my doorstep* crying fake tears!”*
She finally admitted it all—Mark hadn’t thrown her out. She left because she was “bored.”
“Pack your bags,” I said coldly. *”You’re leaving *tonight.”
“WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO GO?”
“Not my problem.”
As she shoved her things into her suitcase, she hissed, *”You’ll *regret* this, Lisa. I’ll ruin you.”*
I pulled out my phone. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
I posted the truth on social media—tagging everyone she knew.
Her phone exploded with notifications.
*”YOU *RUINED* MY LIFE!”* she shrieked.
*”No, Sarah. *You* did that yourself.”*
The Aftermath
She left in a fury, texting me later:
*”YOU’RE A *MONSTER! 😡”
*”I’LL TELL EVERYONE YOU KICKED OUT A *PREGNANT* WOMAN! 🤬”*
My favorite?
*”YOU’LL REGRET THIS WHEN YOU NEVER SEE YOUR *NEPHEW!”
I replied: *”You mean the *imaginary* one? 😌”*
Then I blocked her.
Dave found me later, staring at the now-empty living room.
“Any regrets?”
I looked at my kids—finally able to eat their own lunches in peace.
“Not a single one.”
The Lesson
Kindness shouldn’t mean letting people walk all over you.
Sarah thought she could manipulate us forever.
But she learned the hard way—even the kindest hearts have limits.
And when you cross them?
The payback is legendary.